Summer of Love (22 page)

Rory was thrilled to be going off with Gus. He took extra long strides to keep up with his new friend.

Watching them marching off together she asked herself, not for the first time, how it would go when she told Gus about Rory. Surely it would be all right? He liked Rory. He couldn’t object to finding out he was his son. It would be fine. It was the fact that she hadn’t told him until now that was really worrying her. Would he understand why, or never forgive her? She didn’t know if he was the forgiving type. But Fiona had been brilliant; surely he would be too?

Convinced, even if just for a little while, Sian happily gathered up leaf litter, trying not to think what she was gathering up as well in the way of bugs and creepy-crawlies. She was glad of her gloves. She filled the bags, squashed down the leaves and got quite a bit more in. She was pleased with herself. She’d make a country girl yet.

Rory was obviously having the best time he had ever had. Sitting in the front seat, well strapped in, Sian was pleased to note, driving up through the wood in the Land-Rover, his complete and utter joy radiated from every inch of him. No birthday present anyone ever gave him could match up to this.

‘Right, guys, now we pile the timber into the back.’

It was tiring work, especially as Gus produced more black sacks for Sian to fill. Neither Gus nor Rory thought that leaf litter was their concern. She had to go further and further afield to get it, having used up all the stuff nearby. She could hear Rory laughing, probably at something naughty that Gus had said and consoled herself that Rory would soon have all the benefits of a father without her having to have a husband. Maybe it would be the ideal solution. She’d coped on her own for so long she knew she could continue to do so but seeing how much Rory enjoyed being with Gus she couldn’t deny him his father. It looked as if Gus was here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future – his leg and his book would see to that – so maybe she could risk letting Rory grow attached to him. As for herself – and Richard – that was for another day.

They drove back to Fiona’s house and Gus swung the Land-Rover into an entrance Sian hadn’t seen before, right up the end of the garden.

‘We’ll unload, take stock and then see if we need to go back for some more,’ said Gus.

‘I’m hungry,’ said Rory.

Sian looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly his suppertime,’ she said. ‘And I could murder a cup of tea. That means I want one very much,’ she explained to Rory, who looked confused at her expression.

‘OK, we can have a brew and then crack on,’ said Gus. He got a day pack out of the back of the Land-Rover and pulled out a billy.

Sian considered insisting that they go back to the house and not do the bushcraft thing but didn’t. Rory was so happy and she could wait for her tea. It was fun playing at camping. She knew this was child’s play for Gus but for Rory it felt like an adventure knowing she could go back to the comfort of the cottage afterwards made it fun for her too.

She sat down on the grass. She wanted to lie down really, but it was a bit damp.

Gus was teasing out the inside of a cotton wool pad, having built up a fire of sticks as fine as string and all the sizes up to the thickness of his thumb. He was well practised at it and it didn’t take long. He looked up at Sian and smiled. Then he put down his sticks, straightened up and went back to the Land-Rover. He came back with a rug, waterproof on one side, wool on the other.

‘Here, something to sit on.’

‘I was expecting you to produce a tarp and a pile of kapok or something,’ she said, arranging the rug and settling on it.

‘We don’t have to rough it all the time. Rory? Will you go to the house and ask if we can have some milk? We’ve got everything else. And if Mum wants to come up here for a billy-can tea, she’s welcome.’

‘OK!’ said Rory.

‘Oh, and bring some biscuits,’ Gus added.

‘OK!’ said Rory again and shot off.

‘He’s a lovely kid. You’ve done a great job with him.’

‘Thank you,’ said Sian, wondering if maybe she should tell him now. Then she decided no, Rory would be back at any moment, and she might not have finished explaining. And Gus might (as she worried he would) react badly. She didn’t want to disturb this happy moment and spoil Rory’s day. And truly, she should tell her son first. She’d leave it. As long as possible. Even if she knew she couldn’t put it off for ever.

Rory came back bringing milk, biscuits, a bottle of wine and Fiona.

‘I didn’t think you should have all the fun on your own,’ explained Fiona. ‘So I thought as it was wine o’clock we’d bring it.’

Sian jumped up and kissed her. ‘That’s so kind. Although how I’ll finish icing the biscuits if I have a glass of wine I don’t know. With all this fresh air I’ll just go to sleep.’

‘You’ll be fine. It’s not the birthday cake, after all.’

‘No, Mum’s bringing that tomorrow.’

‘It’s a shame your father can’t come.’ Fiona unscrewed the bottle of wine and produced three tin mugs from her pocket.

‘I know but it’s this Old Boys’ thing he goes to every year. He’s only ever missed one.’

‘When was that?’ Fiona handed Sian a rather full mug.

‘When Rory was born. But we’ve spared him birthday parties since if we haven’t been able to make it when he’s home. They’re something he endures really. Parties are best for little boys.’

‘Indeed,’ agreed Fiona, looking over at her own ‘little boy’.

Rory had devoured a packet of crisps and Sian had had a cup of billy-can tea and a glass of wine and now felt it was time they left. She got up and stretched her legs. ‘Come on, Rory, we should get going. Big day tomorrow.’

‘Hey! We have a shelter to build! You can’t go home yet!’

‘But, Gus, Rory’s tired!’ protested Fiona.

‘I’ll let Rory off, after all it’s nearly his birthday, but someone has to help me build this shelter.’

‘How long will it take?’ asked Sian, worried about the un-iced biscuits and other preparations she still had to make for the party.

‘It’s OK,’ said Gus, ‘I’ll go down the pub and get some of the lads up. We’ll have it done in no time.’

‘Gus, darling, do you know any of the lads “down the pub”?’

‘Not yet, but I will do soon enough.’ He put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Mum! I’m an expert at getting indigenous peoples to help me. It’s my stock in trade!’

The two women exchanged exasperated glances but as Sian was very glad not to have to help him build a shelter when she wanted to get her tired boy into a bath and then bed she smiled warmly at Gus. ‘It’s so sweet of you to do this for Rory, isn’t it, Rory?’

Rory nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘No worries, mate, it’s the least I can do.’ He addressed Rory but afterwards he gave Sian a look that tore at her heart. Suddenly him not knowing was a terrible burden.

Chapter Fifteen

‘Come on, birthday boy,’ said Sian to Rory the following day. ‘We’re going to take these things up to Fiona’s and then go back and wait for Granny to ring. She’s got your cake.’

‘Is it a dragon cake?’

‘Let’s wait and see.’

Sian and Rory walked up the road towards Fiona’s house. Sian was carrying a basket full of plastic boxes. In the boxes were biscuits in the shape of Peter Rabbit, their coats the very same blue, toasted sandwiches cut into shapes – she had a big selection of cookie cutters – and tiny tomatoes hollowed out and filled with finely grated cheese. Her mother said that in her day no one bothered about healthy eating at birthday parties, but Sian didn’t want to take the chance. There were going to be mothers there she hadn’t met yet. Jody had said she’d distribute invitations at the playgroup for her as she knew everyone. And Fiona had invited a few more young friends of her own.

‘Fona’s made a cake but she wouldn’t let me see,’ said Rory, grumbling gently.

‘I know. It’s very kind of her.’

‘She said Gus didn’t want interesting cakes any more. I like Gus. It was fun getting the sticks for the shelter, wasn’t it?’

‘It was, darling.’

‘And Annabelle’s coming? And her big brothers?’ Ever since he had spent the day they went to the craft market at Annabelle’s, he’d been obsessed by her brothers.

‘I’m not sure, actually. But I know Fiona has invited some people we don’t know, just to make it more fun.’

Actually Sian was a bit nervous about meeting Fiona’s friends’ sons and daughters; she was sure they’d be ‘Yummy Mummies’, tanned and slim and so would despise her.

‘Are they bigger than me? The children?’

‘I’m not sure. They will be nice though and you’ll know lots of them from playgroup. Anyway, Fiona would only invite nice people.’ Although Fiona had a tendency to see the good in people, Sian reflected, which might prove a problem. She could tell that Rory was a bit anxious too.

Once they arrived they felt better. Fiona embraced Rory and kissed him. ‘Happy birthday, darling!’ she said.

Gus swung him into the air. ‘Hey, mate! What’s it like to be five years old! Very much like being four and seven-eighths, I expect!’ He put Rory down and ruffled his hair. ‘Hello, Sian,’ he said.

‘Hello! Hello, everybody!’ Sian sounded impressively carefree, she thought. She was glad she hadn’t tried to fudge Rory’s age. Quite apart from anything Fiona wouldn’t have let her and her mother would have said, ‘Don’t be so silly.’

‘Is it OK if I take Rory to show him the shelter I’ve built? I’d like him to see it before the other kids arrive.’

One glance at Rory told her how much he wanted to go and a second later she realised it was unlikely that Gus would find out he was his father from Rory given that Rory didn’t know himself. Also, if the party was too much for him, at least he would have had a nice time first.

‘That’s fine,’ she said.

‘It’s nice for them to have bonding time together,’ said Fiona, when their sons had gone. ‘You will tell him, won’t you?’

‘Yes! I said I would.’

Sian had actually rehearsed what she was going to say whenever she woke up in the night, which seemed to be every hour on the hour. Sadly, none of the versions were fit to say out loud. ‘Gus, you know you were wondering who Rory’s father was? Well, it’s you! How about that!’ Or, ‘Rory was asking who his dad was the other day, so I told him it was you. He was thrilled! And, you’ll never guess, I wasn’t lying! It is you!’ Or, ‘You know when the condom split all those years ago? Well, I got pregnant, and it’s Rory!’ Nothing seemed right although she had her reasons for not telling him all sewn up: she’d had no way of getting in touch with him. It was the rather long gap between meeting him again and telling him now that was making it so difficult.

‘You seem a bit on edge. Is it the thought of telling Gus, the birthday party, or what?’

‘I am worried about telling Gus, about how he’ll take it. Of course I am. And children’s parties are very stressful. Although you’ve taken most of the stress out of it …’ She faltered and chewed her lip.

‘But there’s something else?’

Sian sighed. ‘It’s the thought of having to up sticks and move somewhere else, just as we’re getting settled here. I’m beginning to have a network of friends. I loved doing the craft market, there’s you and …’

‘There’s Rory’s dad,’ Fiona prompted her gently.

‘Yes.’ This wasn’t on Sian’s list of reasons why she didn’t want to move – officially, anyway. But Fiona wouldn’t see it like that. She knew deep down that telling Gus was what was preying on her mind most today but of the two it seemed easier to worry about the roof-over-her-head issue right now. In fact, it was time she did give some serious thought to it. It was clear Luella did want to sell and if she didn’t look for something soon it would be September, Rory would be starting school and they’d have nowhere to live. She shuddered.

‘Well, I don’t think you should worry too much about it.’ Fiona took Sian’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘Why not? Even if I don’t worry, I should start to look for somewhere else. I don’t want to settle Rory into school and then move him after only a term. I should get on with house-hunting.’

‘Just trust me. Don’t do anything rash like registering Rory’s name for a different school. I feel in my bones that it will be all right.’

As Sian had quite a lot to think about just then, she decided to try and forget about imminent homelessness and trust Fiona’s bones. ‘OK.’

‘Shall we have a glass of wine, just to get us in party mood?’ said Fiona, possibly feeling bad for nagging.

‘Better not.’ Sian smiled, to show she forgave her. ‘Will you keep an eye on Rory if I go back home and wait for Mum?’

‘Really, Angus is very responsible. Rory doesn’t need me too.’

‘I know, but I didn’t tell Rory – although he might remember – that I’ve got to go back.’

‘It’ll be fine. Off you go.’

Fifteen minutes later, Sian ran out of the cottage, extremely pleased to see her mother. ‘Hi, Mum!’

They embraced fondly and then checked the cake was OK. They decided they should drive to Fiona’s with it, although it would be quicker to walk. It was such a beautiful creation Sian was terrified something might happen to it if they risked trying to carry it and walk at the same time.